


Turn it all to Rubble

by cassielissie



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-20 00:10:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19982842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassielissie/pseuds/cassielissie
Summary: Sandor hears that a little bird is nearbyThis is a 2-chapter fic that is for my SanSan Secret Santa! LadyTPI hope this fills your prompt, wine-cellar, rubble, moon, neck, and smile.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyTP](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyTP/gifts).



Sandor removed the cowl that covered his mouth, as did the other brothers on the Quiet Isle, as it was time to eat. Sandor tended to keep almost every inch of skin completely covered, save for his right eye. But, after staying on the island for a few weeks he felt more comfortable around the religious men. He may not believe in their gods, but they gave him a place to stay, food, and most importantly did not turn him in to anyone who visited the isle. The Elder Brother even made eye contact with him when it was his day of the week to speak, and Sandor had surely spoken more here to this man than he had to others in years.

The dining hall was small, but it could fit the entire residency of the island. Typically meals were silent, but today was a bit different. A pregnant woman and her friend were chatting against the back wall. They had come to the Island hoping the Elder Brother would assist in her birth. She had heard of the Elder Brother’s uncanny healing powers, and she was often found praying to the Mother for a healthy baby boy.

Dinner was interrupted suddenly when Elder Brother brought an unfamiliar rider into the dining hall. All of the brothers and their guests put their food down. The rider’s armor bore a moon and falcon sigil. Sandor moved to put his cowl back on. Maybe he didn’t recognize the man, but the brothers did not need any trouble if the man from the Vale recognized him.

“We have an announcement from the lords of the Vale.” The Elder Brother motioned to the rider to speak.

“As citizens of the Vale, I am here to inform you that Lord Robert Arryn has died.” The pregnant women instantly stood up in shock, words on her lips about to spill before the rider continued, “And the new Protector of the Vale shall be Harrold Hardyng, now known as Lord Harrold Arryn.” The pregnant woman began whispering furiously to her companion, and wildly gesturing her hands. Sandor and the other brothers really did not seem to care. Their island would go on, no matter who the ruling lord was as long as they were left alone.

The Elder Brother bowed his head, as did Sandor and the other septons out of respect. “May the Seven help young Lord Robert Arryn in death. May the Stranger guide him, and the Father judge him justly.” The Elder Brother held out his hands, and Brother Narbert echoed his prayers quietly. “Thank you for coming to inform us, this is grave news. Unfortunately, we were never allowed to honor of meeting the young Lord Robert Arryn in person.” The Elder Brother pursed his lips in a thin line, then placed his hand on the shoulder of the rider and addressed him directly, “Please tell the new Lord Arryn that he is always welcome on the Quiet Isle.”

“I will.” The rider nodded his head. The dining hall was uncrowded despite being so small, and the rider wondered why the lords of the vale even bothered sending him here. The announcement could have easily been sent by raven, and winter was approaching. But all the lords had said was they did not want outsiders to hear the news before it was official. “Before I leave, I have one other announcement.”

“Wait!” The pregnant woman from the back of the room waddled up to the rider, a large smile on her face, and grabbed his other arm. Her brown eyes pleaded with him, “My name is Saffron, I am pregnant with Harrold’s child. Please, take me with you back to him. He will want to meet his new child, possibly make him a lord.”

“I do not think you should leave.” The Elder Brother cautioned Saffron, and motioned to her stomach, “Riding in your current state is dangerous. Your child could come any day now. It is best for you to remain on the Quiet Isle, and visit the new Lord Arryn after the baby comes.”

“No, please, if he truly is becoming a lord, then I-“ But the rider interrupted her before her protests could continue.

“Lord Harrold Arryn shall marry Lady Sansa of House Stark in three days. She is the eldest daughter of Lord Eddard Stark, and is the heir to Winterfell.” Saffron gasped at the news. A large sound interrupted the shock of the conversation when Sandor suddenly stood up from his seat, pushing the entire bench back with him. He placed both his hands splayed out on the table in front of him, his head down, and stood still for a moment.

“Well, he…” Saffron started, but could not continue her sentence as she was so distracted by Sandor.

“I am also to inform you that all Brothers are invited to the wedding ceremony, as citizens of the Vale who are highly respected. A marriage between the North and the Vale should hope to ease some of the tension in this land, should the war decide to come to the quiet island. Now, that is all I have to relay.” The rider went to leave the dining hall, but the Elder Brother stopped him.

“Thank you for coming all this way just to inform our small group. We would be pleased if you joined us for a meal.” The Elder Brother flicked his eyes between Saffron and the rider hoping to ease some tension. Saffron now had tears welling in her eyes, a woman who had probably hoped Harrold would marry her. Saffron had given the Brothers quite a sum of money to ensure her child was born without incident, and was planning on riding up to Gates of the Moon as soon as she had the baby boy in her arms. “I believe with all of the work we have here, none of us will be able to attend the wedding. But please let Lord Arryn know we greatly appreciate the invitation.”

“I’m going.” Sandor was now standing fully upright, and at his full height the top of his head brushed the ceiling of the dining hall. “I can take the woman, too.” He had spoken out of turn, and but this was lost on the rider and Saffron. His single eye drilled into the rider’s eye, purely determined.

“Truly? You will take me?” Saffron wanted to run over to Sandor with delight in her eyes, but his dark stare made her think better of it. “Thank you, thank you.” Her eyes cleared up a little, and her hand was rubbing her large stomach. But she did not move any closer to Sandor.

“We will speak together about the matter before making any decisions.” The Elder Brother looked to Sandor, but more with wonder than with anger at Sandor speaking out of turn. “Please, let us all sit and eat.” At that, Sandor walked to the front of the dining room, or more so, limped.

“We don’t need to speak about it. I would like to see a trueborn Stark with my own eyes.” Sandor towered over the rider, and leaned heavily on one of his legs. His stance was off kilter, but it did not diminish the power radiating from him. “Did you see her yourself?”

The rider swallowed audibly, and uncomfortably scooted backwards. “I, I did look upon her once recently.” Sandor held his gaze. “She looks like the twin of former Lady Arryn, with her auburn hair and blue eyes. And, another Lord confirms it is her.”

“Which Lord?”

“He was with her in King’s Landing, but I don’t remember his name.”

Sandor’s expression revealed nothing as he pushed past the rider and Elder Brother, and walked out toward the direction of the stables. Before he was out of earshot he yelled back, “I’ll be riding back with you tomorrow. Drink some of the mead, it’s getting cold outside.”

 _Stranger should be ready for a long ride._


	2. Chapter 2

It was the night before her second wedding, and Sansa Stark was hiding in a wine-cellar. Saffron, pregnant with Harrold’s child, had arrived at the Gates of the Moon earlier this evening. Harrold’s excited reaction to seeing his pregnant lover there to crash his wedding was not what Sansa had been hoping for. Saffron had come in all teary-eyed begging for Harrold to marry her instead of Sansa. Although Harrold had not fully changed his mind about Sansa, he was open to ‘talking to Saffron in private’.

The lords of the Vale reminded Sansa that Saffron was only the daughter of a spice-merchant, in titles she was nothing compared to Sansa. But, Sansa wasn’t pregnant and Saffron was. _Saffron is a true woman, and what am I? Am I a girl or a woman now?_ Sansa had learned a great deal more about sex as Alayne Stone than she ever had in King’s Landing, and she knew that a woman who could make a child much more enticing to a man than someone of her age, who might not even get pregnant any time soon.

Sansa’s head was spinning. When Saffron arrived, Littlefinger and even Lord Royce had promised her that Harrold would not change his mind about Sansa. Lord Royce stated than unbreakable alliance between the Vale and the North was too important, and he would see that Harrold understood that.

Sansa did not want marriage for an alliance, she wanted marriage to a man who would love her and treat her well. Could her marriage to Harrold be like the marriage her father promised her, gentle and kind? Who _was_ Harrold? Would he be as gentle to her as the imp was, despite him being a Lannister? Would Harrold respect her as a lady? Or, would he be cruel like Joffrey? _Certainly not_ , she assured herself. _No one is as evil as a Lannister. Besides, Littlefinger would probably not have me marry him if he were not kind._

Sansa doubted her own final though. But truly, more than a good marriage, Sansa wanted to go home. The fantasy of going home to Winterfell was too sweet to give up. According to Littlefinger, Harrold was the only key to having the knights of the Vale fight for her at Winterfell. They could take it back from the men who were living there, and she could sleep again in her own bed. Sansa let her mind drift for a while, and she imagined the floors of Winterfell warmed by the hot springs beneath the grounds, and how it would feel to sit under the Godswood once again. Even if her parents, sister and brothers could not join her.

Sansa sat down on the ground in the wine-cellar and pulled her knees up to her chest. Her heart was beginning to pound over and over in her chest, a reminder of the time she was wasting down here. She recalled the wedding night between her and the imp, and began breathing hard. He was gentle enough to not force her into anything. Except tomorrow, Harrold would take her maidenhead regardless what she wanted. Harrold already had two children, he would expect her to give him one soon. She was so nervous, unsure of if she wanted a child yet or not. She couldn’t ask Harrold to wait and consummate it after she was ready or their marriage would not be legal. Harrold was handsome, but she did not know him. After first glance, he reminded her too much of Loras Tyrell. A man who used to entice her, but no longer interested her. There was another type of man, tall, strong, and seemingly invincible who she thought about late at night. _Besides, maybe he would make Saffron’s son his heir_. If Sansa was not ready to give him one of her own, then what would her own future children be?

Sansa twisted open a small barrel, and filled the goblet she had taken into the cellar with red wine. She drank deeply and sat on the ground, her back pressed against the brick wall. She assumed someone would come looking for her soon, and knew she would have to go to get a long night sleep before her wedding day tomorrow. All of the Lords of the Vale would be at her wedding, would it be safe? What about what had happened to her brother, and her uncle at his wedding?

But no one came looking for Sansa for quite some time. She sat there, drinking two more goblets full of wine to try and calm her racing thoughts. Her brain started to slow down, and she decided she would drink at least a little bit of wine before her wedding tomorrow to calm her nerves. Or most certainly before the bedding ceremony. _Littlefinger kissed me once, will he be jealous? Is he mad I am no longer pretending to be his Alayne? What control will he have over me? At least if I am married, he cannot kiss me again._

“Little Bird.” A deep voice filled the cellar, and Sansa thought surely she must be dreaming. His tall build filled the doorway, and his clothing looked like that of a Septon. Sansa let out a small laugh at his attire, _I must be dreaming._

“Here to kiss me again?” Sansa stood up, pressing her hands against the brick wall to help herself stand up. Sandor walked toward her, favoring one leg as the other clearly could not support the entirety of his weight.

“Little Bird,” He repeated “I found you.” He breathed a sigh of release. He was fully serious and grabbed her face in between his thumb and forefinger. “Come with me tonight. Do not make the same mistake as last time I saw you.” Sansa realized from the pain of his grip that she was not dreaming, and began to panic realizing she was feeling a bit drunk from the wine. When he didn’t let go and she tried unsuccessfully to pull back, and hit her own head against the brick wall. Sansa’s eyes welled with tears, no matter how far she wanted to move she could not. She was stuck in the wine cellar, with no one else but Sandor Clegane. _How in the seven hells did he find me here?_

“Let go of me.” She commanded, but he ignored her command and grabbed her arm with his other hand. “How did you find me? What are you doing here?”

“We need to leave. I am taking you to safety tonight. You don’t need to be forced to marry some little lordling.” Sandor attempted to pull her forward but she let out a scream. He rushed to cover her mouth with his large hand, “What are you doing? You want Littlefinger to catch you? I will move my hand, but do not scream if you know what is good for you.”

Sansa was breathing hard through her nose. Sandor removed his hand and she twitched her jaw, and Sansa did not scream. “I am not forced. Littlefinger arranged my wedding to Harrold Hardyng so that I _can_ go back to Winterfell. The Knights of the Vale will be sworn to me and fight for me!”

Sandor let go of her chin but now held both her arms at her sides, he could not let her leave. “Littlefinger? Oh Littlefinger helping you? He was there when your father was taken by the Lannisters for treason. He fucking betrayed him. I was in the throne room when it happened. He does not want to help you, he will use you.” Sansa narrowed her eyes, and her vision started to blur with tears.

“You were in the throne room? And what do _you_ want with me?” Sansa wanted to scream, she wanted to leave. She was so emotionally volatile, as she had been trying so hard not to be. But Littlefinger had killed her Aunt Lysa, and Lysa had said something about Littlefinger and Lord Arryn. _Had little Sweetrobin’s death been part of a plan too? Of course it was._ Sansa had spent so long pretending to be Alayne that things that should be simple just felt different now.

“You know the Lannisters as well as I do, you know I helped you as much as I could. Don’t stay here and marry some fucking lord that Littlefinger has on his payroll. I heard you were here with him, and I couldn’t leave you.” Sandor released his grip on her arms. “Come with me, Arya is alive. I don’t know where she is now, but you can’t stay here. I had to fix what I couldn’t last time.”

Sansa looked up at his eyes to make sure he was telling the truth, but one of his eyes was covered by cloth. She reached up as high as she could, and pulled the piece down from behind his head. Now that Sansa had a full view of his face, she searched his left and right eyes equally. They were two left in the wake of Joffrey’s abuse, and maybe what Sandor was saying about Harrold and Littlefinger was true. Sansa had grown up, and looking at him now, seeing the pleading in his eyes, she could see that Sandor had changed. But more importantly, she had a chance to find her last remaining relative.

“Arya is alive…?” Sansa’s only living sibling. She wasn’t the last Stark left in the world. But was finding Arya, or getting Winterfell back in the hands of a Stark more important? What if Arya was already there, and she just didn’t know it? A nagging thought ran through Sansa’s mind, “Even if Arya is alive, Littlefinger killed my Aunt Lysa because she was going to kill me. Why would he do that if he weren’t going to continue protecting me? If I leave with you, I may never go back to Winterfell. The grip on the North will remain, and I won’t be able to return home. Arya would meet me in Winterfell if she knew I was there. A Stark should always be there.” Sandor just shook his head back and forth.

“If you stay here, you will never go back to Winterfell. Littlefinger will use you, and get rid of you. Like your father, and clearly your aunt. He married her, then kills her, and now he is a Lord of the Vale.” Sandor heard voices pass and knew he would be unable to hide if someone came into the cellar. He turned his voice into a small whisper. “We are leaving _now_.”

Sansa thought this over for a moment. _He doesn’t have a reason to lie. He is wanted by the Lannisters, and many other houses. He is wearing Septons clothes, and I can only imagine there is some good reason for that. Besides, in King’s Landing he always protected me. This feels like one of my good dreams._ “Let me get my things. I have money I can bring, and I can’t wear this.” Sansa motioned down to her nightgown. She had snuck out of her room earlier in the night, and hadn’t bothered to change. She looked down at her feet out of embarrassment, suddenly remembering asking him if he were there to kiss her. Maybe her mind would have gone there even without him arriving suddenly.

“Go out to the stables, I’ll be behind them waiting for you. We can talk about where to go while we ride.” Sandor motioned for her to leave, then replaced the cloth back over his eye. _She looked at my true face._ He waited until he could no longer hear her bare footsteps on the stone floors, and did his best to sneak out of the castle unnoticed.

* * *

Sansa approached the stables dressed in a warm winter cloak that was a bit too large for her. She spied a large black horse, and instantly knew it had to be Sandor’s. She walked up to Stranger, but the horse was wary and turned his back to her.

“Aye, Little bird.” Sandor came out from one of the stalls in the stable. The moonlight was bright, he could see Sansa’s face almost as if it were daytime. They wouldn’t be able to hide very well, but he knew she could pretend to be Saffron again. A Septon bringing a woman, and leaving with the same woman would surely go unnoticed to buy them time.

“This was my aunt’s before she was murdered.” Sansa motioned to the thick cloak, and opened it to show off a blue dress. It was too large for her, but warm enough to fight the winter wind. She looked like a true northern lady, more than she ever had in King’s Landing. She felt stronger now, braver. The cold wind bit at her cheeks, but with Sandor beside her she felt more sure about leaving. “Oh, and so were these. You can thank Lord Baelish for his murderous generosity.” She held out a velvet bag in front of her, which Sandor took into his hand. He didn’t open it, but could feel significant weight inside the bag. Based on the clinking, Sansa had brought along many jewels and necklaces. Selling these could last them a while on the road. _But where are we going? The Quiet Isle will no longer be an option. Is the North the best direction? Who will hide her?_

“I heard Harrold and Saffron talking when I left the castle.” Sansa’s hands were shaking, and he could hear a twinge in her voice as she said this. “He was discussing how he will make her son with him his heir, and he only needs me as a claim of course.” 

“Aye well, no reason to stay here now. I got you a horse too.” Sandor walked over and mounted Stranger, pointing in the direction of a gray gelding. He rode over next to the gelding, and untied him from a post. Sansa walked over but made no motion to mount the horse herself.

“Where will we go? Will we find Arya? Or, go to Winterfell?” She shuffled her feet on the ground.

“Whatever we decide we shouldn’t stay here.” Stranger was getting antsy, now ready to ride off. Sandor truly didn’t know what to do, he hadn’t thought much further than find Sansa and leave, similar to what he had done with Arya. The only Lord he could ransom her off to was either a Lannister who wanted his head, or Littlefinger who would turn on both of them. But Sansa was so different from any other woman, she couldn’t stay here to live out as a hostage for her title.

“Come here.” Sansa said with a need in her voice. Sandor dismounted Stranger, and searched the grounds for others who may be looking for them. He may have entered through the Bloody Gate just fine with Saffron, but it would be another hell going out the Gate if it wasn’t night time. Sansa needed to hurry, or else the guards at the Bloody Gate might realize the woman he brought in with him wasn’t the one he was taking out.

“Yes, Little Bird?” Sandor realized he no longer towered over her as he once did. She was still so young, but seemed to have aged rapidly in gap since he had last seen her.

Sansa whispered, and reached out to grab his hand.

“I am… so nervous. I know that you are right about Littlefinger. He betrayed my father, and my aunt. Would he kill me if I stayed? He kissed me once, saying I reminded him of my mother. Will he search for me if I leave?” Sansa pulled Sandor into a tight embrace. Sandor hadn’t been held by a woman in a long time, and put one arm around her back, with his other hand cupped the base of her neck. He fell into how soft her long red hair was.

“He will be looking for you. But someday, I will leave Baelish and his bloody castles as nothing but rubble.” Sansa melted completely into Sandor. Somedays, she felt that she was a grown woman now, capable of hiding her true emotions. She had learned to do it well in King’s Landing, and even better as a bastard here in the Vale. But now, in the arms of Sandor, she felt herself falling apart. She missed her family, and so badly wanted to be back in Winterfell, back as a child before she had ever left to King’s Landing. No matter what, she had to remain. Leaving yet another trapping marriage for freedom, and a man who cared about her did seem like the best way. 

Sandor waited for Sansa to remove her arms from him, but she didn’t.

“Take your cowl off.” Sansa commanded.

“Anyone could see me, absolutely bloody not.”

“Just for a moment.” Sansa pleaded with him through her big blue eyes, and leaned back, her arms still around his waist. She looked beautiful in the moonlight.

“Hmm.”

Sandor removed his cowl and showed both sides of his face to Sansa. His long black hair stuck out from beneath the head coverings, and when Sansa scanned his face with her eyes, she smiled.

“I used to dream about you all the time.” Sansa fell back a bit to get a better look at him, her cheeks rosy, a little bit embarrassed, and a bit flushed from the cold. “Thank you for coming for me.”

Sandor hadn’t been this close to a woman in years. Sansa took her arms away from his sides, and placed them up behind his neck. She pulled his head coverings down further and further, until she could see his entire head, and all of his scars. She stood up on her toes, and pulled on the back of his neck. Sandor resisted slightly, unsure of what Sansa was trying to do. 

“Sansa, I am-“

“I have already been married once, and I was about to be married again. If any man should kiss me I need it to be you.”

Sandor felt something in his gut, and he learned down and pressed his lips to hers. She pulled him closer and learned into it. He thought that it would be a light kiss, and be done with it. But he felt himself pulling her up to get closer to him. He didn’t want to let go, or put her down.

Sansa felt like her stomach was on fire. When Littlefinger had kissed her, she had wanted to lean into it at first then been repulsed. Now, her heart was pounding and she felt like she was going to explode. When he pulled away from her mouth she kissed his burned cheek, and all over his scars. She was breathing hard and finally Sandor put her down. He didn’t say anything but turned to get on Shadow and motioned for Sansa to do the same. And so they turned from the Gates of the Moon, and left.


End file.
